Lover's Tryst
by explosionsintheskyxx
Summary: Draco's parents are dead and he has to live at Grimmauld Place with Harry. Voldemort instructs him to try to get close to Harry and betray him. He agrees, but Draco is conflicted as he starts to care about Harry. HPDM
1. Living Arrangements

This chapter is just a kind of introductory chatper. There's not much interaction with Harry and Draco, and it's more of a back story. Please read and review. If I get some reviews, I'll have the second chapter up shortly. It has some language, sorry. This is a Harry/Draco slash fic, at least in the later chapters.

_Tryst - An agreement, as between lovers, to meet at a certain time and place._

**Chapter 1: Living Arrangements  
**

He didn't understand. At the very least, he should be sad… feel some remorse.

But all Draco Malfoy felt was anger. He was so furious at his parents for being stupid enough to get killed and leave Draco here in _Dumbledore's_, of all people, care. He felt betrayed. He knew his parents loved him, but ever since he could remember, they had been hard on him, telling him to be strong and keep his head up. Malfoys never apologize. Malfoys are never wrong and they never give up. It was up to Draco to carry on this tradition. It felt as though they were testing him, to see if he could make it on his own and still carry his family pride with his head held high.

It's such a strange thing to think about. Draco still couldn't get his head around the fact that his parents were gone. He would never see them again. It didn't make sense in his head. It was as if he was trying to solve a puzzle and there were pieces missing, so he couldn't tell what the picture was.

Where was he going to live? Who was he going to live with? He doubted that Dumbledore would be taking care of him. Draco shuddered at the thought of spending all his time with the righteous headmaster. He'd go mad. The only thing worse would be if he were forced to live with Potter. Draco felt totally revolted by this idea, and dismissed it quickly from his mind.

"I'm sorry about this Draco, I really am," Dumbledore said forlornly. Draco jumped, interrupted from his thoughts, and ran the hand that wasn't holding his wand through his blond hair.

_Like hell you are. I'm sure you wanted my parents to die, you muggle-loving fool. _Draco thought to himself bitterly. He didn't want to be pitied at the moment. But to Dumbledore's face, he merely nodded. Draco looked around at the spot that they had just apparated too. He had to squint his eyes against the bright sunlight. There were in the middle of a small square, with some dilapidated muggle houses. Compared to Malfoy Manor, this place looked like a trash heap. Draco sniffed. It even smelled like a dump.

"This way, Draco," Dumbledore said, as he walked towards an alleyway in between two houses. Draco squinted. It was hard to see Dumbledore because he had put them both under Disillusionment charms.

Draco turned around to his many trunks that held his belongings, and muttered "_Locomotor Trunk_." Then Draco followed Dumbledore grudgingly, wishing that the old bat would stop saying his name and giving him orders. Draco was getting exceedingly agitated as the seconds went by.

The senile old wizard had not even told Draco where they were going. He merely appeared on his doorstep an hour before, informed him that his parents were dead, and forced Draco to pack up his things and leave with him. According to the old man, all the people that were supposed to look after him in his parent's untimely death were currently unable to take care of him. Draco knew why. They were all assisting the Dark Lord at the moment. Draco wished he were with them.

Dumbledore stopped abruptly, and Draco nearly ran straight into him. Dumbledore turned to face him, and bent down.

"I want you to memorize this: 'The Order of the Phoenix can be found at Number 12, Grimmauld Place'. Repeat it please," Dumbledore whispered. Draco scowled. This wasn't the time to play stupid memory games.

"The Order of the Phoenix can be found at Number 12, Grimmauld place," he drawled, quite bored. Dumbledore turned around, and suddenly, between the two buildings in front of them, a new one began to expand and grow. Draco blinked at the new house that seemed to have sprouted out of nowhere, and quickly regained his composure. Malfoys could not afford to be surprised by anything; they can't let their guard down.

Dumbledore rapped smartly on the door. No one came. He rapped again, a little harder.

"There's a doorbell," Draco said as he rolled his eyes. _What an idiot._

"Ah, but there are certain things inside that we don't want to… wake up," Dumbledore replied. Draco's mind raced with images of what could be inside. Was Dumbledore taking him to a place that was dangerous? Was the inside full of dragons or something of the sort that Dumbledore was going to feed Draco too, to make sure he didn't aid Voldemort like his parents? He wouldn't put it past a muggle-lover. They're quite unstable people.

At the moment Draco imagined pushing Dumbledore in the door first and making a break for it, the door swung open and Dumbledore stepped over the threshold, pulling Draco by the arm with him. Dumbledore quickly tapped the top of Draco's head, and then his own head, and Draco felt something hot trickling down his back as the Disillusionment Charm was lifted. Once his trunks were inside, the door closed behind them.

Draco found himself staring a young-looking witch, who looked as if she'd had too many drinks lately. She had mousy brown hair, and there were large bags under her eyes. The look on her face was one of pure apathy.

Draco looked around at the house they had just entered, completely nonplussed. All the wallpaper was tearing, and the place smelled of mildew. He sincerely hoped this wasn't where he was going to be living now. Draco would have to claw his eyes out if the rest of the house looked like this.

"Hello Dumbledore," the witch whispered dully, running a hand through her drab hair.

"Hello Tonks," Dumbledore whispered cheerily. Draco's frown deepened. Why were they all whispering? And what the hell kind of name is 'Tonks'? "I've just come to see that Draco gets settled in here." The witch jumped as if she just noticed Draco standing there.

"Oh, well, that's nice," she replied, obviously not concerned at all.

Dumbledore leaned over to whisper something in her ear, and she nodded slowly and started to walk away. Dumbledore made a gesture to Draco, telling him to follow. Draco and Dumbledore followed the witch, her shoulders sagging slightly as she walked.

"Where-," Draco began, but Dumbledore clapped a hand over his mouth. Draco thought about biting the long fingers, but Dumbledore withdrew his hand, and put a finger to his lips. Draco was infuriated. No one silenced a Malfoy.

Once they were climbing down a set of stone steps, Dumbledore turned to him and said, "You may talk now," smiling like a loon.

"Where are we? Who's that? Why did we have to whisper?" Draco said, his voice taking on a demanding tone. He wanted answers. Now.

"All in good time, young Malfoy, all in good time… I can't answer any questions just yet," Dumbledore said as he tapped the side of his crooked nose with his finger. Draco glowered as they reached the bottom of the stairs, which led into a large cavernous room, with a long wooden table set up in the center. It appeared to be a kitchen. A very dirty, unsanitary kitchen, that didn't impress Draco in the slightest. This place needed a house elf, dearly.

The witch named Tonks plopped down heavily in a chair at the table and took a long gulp from a goblet in front of her. As Dumbledore and Draco passed her to sit down, Draco smelled alcohol. They sat there for several minutes, in total silence. Every so often the witch whimpered, but Dumbledore did nothing to comfort her. He merely sat there with a coy smile on his face, occasionally stroking his long beard.

Draco grew more bored and annoyed. He wanted to know what this place was, and why he was here. He kept shooting Dumbledore murderous gazes, but the old wizard was unaffected, or just didn't notice.

Just as Draco thought about hexing Dumbledore and demanding him to tell him where the crazy man had taken him, he heard someone bounding down the stone steps. Draco turned to the steps expectantly. With any luck, this next person would be sane, at least.

To Draco's disbelief and displeasure, Harry Potter emerged from the stairwell.

Draco's eyes widened, and a fire in his chest erupted.

This couldn't be right, this was a mistake. He couldn't live with Harry Potter! Just thinking about him, saying his name, made Draco recoil in disgust. He hated the goody two-shoes Gryffindor.

Harry and Draco just stared at each other. Draco read pure hatred in Harry's green orbs, and knew the same look was reflected in his own gray eyes.

"Ah, Harry! Mr. Malfoy here is going to be your new roommate, in part to circumstances under our control," Dumbledore said, sounding pleasant, but his expression was clearly worried.

"WHAT?" Harry yelled, just as Draco voiced his own opinion.

"NO!"

Draco leapt to his feet, knocking his chair over backwards. Harry looked as though he was going to have a heart attack. Draco felt as though his heart was beating three times as fast. He was so shocked and furious, that there was only thought that kept echoing in his mind. _NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, _he yelled over and over inside his head.

There was no way he was going to live with the one person in the world he hated most. No way.

No. Fucking. Way.


	2. Fear and Heartbreak

Well, here's chapter 2. It's a bit long, but I have to build up the plot and all. There's no Harry/Draco loving, just hating. The loving comes in later chapters. Read and review please. And thank you to everyone who's already reviewed! It's a lame chapter title, I know, but I'm bad at this sort of things, sorry.

**Chapter 2: Fear and Heartbreak **

"Ah, Harry! Could you come and join us please," Dumbledore said with a huge smile, waving to the chairs across from them. Harry hesitated for a moment, and then trudged to the chairs Dumbledore had indicated and collapsed into one across from him.

"It's good to see you sir," Harry said. Draco snorted. What a suck-up. Harry glared at Draco as though he was something nasty he had stepped in. "Malfoy," he said coldly, giving a small head nod.

Draco smirked and responded, "Potter," leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. He took in the sight of Harry's rumpled clothes and disheveled hair and sniffed in disdain.

"I know this is an inconvenience to you both, but this is the only way to keep you two safe," Dumbledore said seriously.

"Keep me safe from what?" Draco asked.

"From the same person we're keeping Harry safe from," Dumbledore replied without hesitation.

"Voldemort? Why?" Harry asked stupidly. Draco rolled his eyes. They've been at the same school for 5 years, and he still had the intelligence of a slug. Of course, it made sense. They didn't want Draco becoming a Death Eater. He was a threat to them. This thought filled Draco with a sick kind of satisfaction.

"Draco's parents failed in bringing you to them, and he murdered them. The best way to compensate for their failure is to turn their only child into a Death Eater," Dumbledore turned to Draco and nodded, "And give him an impossible task, where Draco will surely be killed. And we mustn't let that happen. This is the safest place from Voldemort besides Hogwarts in the whole wizarding world. I'm sorry Harry, but he has to stay here," Dumbledore said apologetically but firmly.

Anger flashed through Draco's face. Why was he apologizing to Harry? It's not as if he _wanted _to live with the Bloody-Boy-Who-Lived.

"I understand sir, but with all due respect, this is _my_ house," Harry said sternly, his hands clenched together on the table. "And the last person I want to live with is Malfoy," he said, shooting Draco a look of pure venom. Draco sneered. He knew all too well that he really didn't care if Draco died or not.

"Yes, that's true Harry, but remember Draco has nowhere to go, and it's also headquarters-."

"Why can't I just live with Aunt Bellatrix?" Draco interjected loudly. Tonks squeaked loudly and fell backwards off her chair, spilling her firewhiskey down her front. She jumped up and looked at Draco like he had just insulted her, and hurried from the room. Harry's eyes darkened, and Draco could see pain in his features. He withdrew a deep breath, and looked pleadingly at Dumbledore.

"Draco, I'm sorry but I told you. All your relatives and people that were supposed to take care of you are helping Voldemort. And we can't let him get you too. He'd kill you," Dumbledore said quietly.

Draco, however, was staring intently at Harry. "Do you know Aunt Bellatrix?" he asked firmly. Harry shook his head and looked down at the table, breathing heavily. Draco gave him a disbelieving look, but didn't press the matter. Dumbledore clapped his hands together with an air of finality.

"Well it's settled then. Draco you will be living here for the rest of the summer. Harry will explain everything about the house, but I must be going, urgent business to attend to, I'm afraid. Do try not to hex each other too much," Dumbledore said, standing up.

"Professor, wait a second-," Harry began, but Dumbledore smiled sneakily at him, mouthed something, and then disapparated with a loud crack.

This left Draco and Harry to stare at each other menacingly for a couple seconds. Draco propped his feet up on the table.

"Well? Aren't you going to carry my stuff up to my room? I mean, I am your guest after all," Draco said, trying to sound innocent, but failing.

Harry didn't reply but pulled out his wand. Draco tensed and reached for his own wand, but Harry waved it at Draco's luggage and said "_Evanesco_," and the luggage vanished.

"So what IS this place anyways?" Draco asked, looking around as he followed Harry from the kitchen.

"It's headquarters to The Order of the Phoenix," Harry said in an annoyed tone, as if Draco should already know this. Draco looked skeptically at Harry's back.

"Right. And I know what that is…" he trailed off sarcastically. Harry sighed.

"It's a secret organization dedicated to fighting Voldemort," Harry said, his voice becoming steadily quieter the further he climbed up the stairs. Draco looked around, and chuckled.

"This old run down building is your headquarters? You really think Voldemort can't find this shack and blow it up? The building already looks like if you just pushed it from the outside, it would fall over."

"Don't you think we've thought of that?" Harry whispered as they reached the top of the stairs. "Now shut up. I'll tell you why when we reach your room."

Draco instantly recoiled, and thought about yelling an obscenity just to see what would happen. But he decided it was his first day in this house, and there would be plenty of time to piss off Potter later, since they were spending a month in the same house. Harry led the way up another flight of stairs, Draco trailing close behind to hear his whispers.

"This house isn't just there. It's protected by all kinds of enchantments and things that Dumbledore put on it. Even before it was headquarters, it was already unplottable, and there's every kind of anti-Muggle charm imaginable on it. Dumbledore's the secret-keeper for this place, so no one knows it's there unless Dumbledore tells them personally. The ministry can't even detect what we're doing here. Which means you and I can use magic in the house without being expelled," they reached the top of the landing, and Draco's thoughts brightened at hearing he could use magic without any repercussions.

As soon as he thought that, Harry rounded on him and hissed, "But if you so much as even think about hexing me, I'll make you wish you were never born." Draco studied his gleaming eyes, which seemed almost hungry, as if he wanted Draco to defy him.

Which was of course, what Draco intended to do.

"Oh, but I already have, Potter. I've thought about hexing you ever since our first ride on the Hogwarts Express," he said maliciously. Harry made a frustrated growl in his throat, and muttered to himself as he turned around.

"This isn't going to be easy."

Draco smiled to himself. He was there for only 15 minutes or so, and he was already getting under Potter's skin. One thing was sure, if Draco was going to live here, he wasn't going to be the only one that was going to suffer. He turned right and led Draco down the corridor until they came to the last one, four doors down. He turned to the right door, and opened it, leading Draco inside.

Draco entered to find a drab room, with only a bed and a bedside table in it. His trunks and things were already inside the room, sitting beside the bed. Harry turned to Draco and said, "This is your room."

Draco looked at him like he was crazy. "This is my bloody room?" he exclaimed. It looked nothing like his grand furnished bedroom at home. Harry shrugged.

"Sorry," he stated, not looking like he meant it at all. Draco fumed at his unconcerned manner. "And since this is headquarters, there will be people in the Order coming in and out all the time. When we go back to school, you're not allowed to tell anyone anything about the Order, or about the people in the Order. Or else," Harry warned, his voice dangerous.

"Or else _what?_" Draco spat. He wasn't going to have some Gryffindor threatening him. Harry smirked like he knew something that Draco didn't. He crossed his skinny arms across his chest.

"You didn't notice Dumbledore putting that spell on you?" Harry looked joyous. Draco felt like a ton of bricks had just hit him the stomach.

"What are you talking about?"

"Just before he left. He cast a charm on you. If you tell anyone about this place, something terrible will happen. I don't know what, but I know you'll regret it. Maybe you'll even die." Harry said this last sentence as if he just learned that Christmas was coming early. So that was what Dumbledore mouthed before he disapparated. Draco, however, was not rattled in the slightest. Threats never deter a Malfoy. He laughed derisively.

"As if you do-gooders would kill an innocent person like me," he said. Harry smirked. Draco raised his eyebrows. This wasn't the reaction he expected from the other boy.

"Ha, well you'd be surprised what we'd do Malfoy. I suggest you don't test us," he said, smarmily pushing his glasses up on his nose. "Anyways," he began before Draco could retort, "When you're on the bottom floor, you can't speak above a whisper. This used to be my godfather's house, and there's a portrait of his mum on the bottom landing that's behind a curtain. Make any noise, and she'll scream and yell, and make a racket. We can't get it down, there's a permanent sticking charm on it," Draco opened his mouth to make a brazen remark, but Harry kept going, not giving him a chance to speak.

"You can't leave the house. I'll send Kreacher up when dinner's ready. That's it," Harry finished, his tall already in the doorway. Draco placed his hands on his hips.

"You really think you can control me like this, Potter?" he sneered. No one bossed around a Malfoy, especially not stuck-up scruffy gits with scars on their heads. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Just stay out of my way, Malfoy," he growled, and before Draco could reply, he was gone. Draco glared at the spot where Harry just was, imagining setting a thousand horrible curses on him. He huffed, and moved to the bed. He fell backwards onto it. The room was dark, and smelled musty. His pale skin looked almost illuminated against the room's dingy surroundings.

He rolled over and mulled over depressing thoughts about his current predicament. His thoughts were blinded by hate. He hated Harry Potter. He hated Dumbledore. He hated this shack.

He hated his parents. If they hadn't died, he wouldn't have to live here with Harry Potter.

His first week at Number 12, Grimmauld Place flew by in an unhappy haze. All the days blended together in a mix of boredom and displeasure. Most occupants of the house ignored him, or just regarded him with a slight nod when he entered the room.

He was so tired of this place already. He was tired of the way that mad woman's portrait screamed every time the doorbell rang. He was tired of not being able to boss around the only house-elf in the house, on a count of Harry commanding him not to obey any of Draco's orders. He was annoyed that this Tonks person just moped around the house all day, crying. He was annoyed that people were in and out all day, and everyone spoke in whispers so that he couldn't overhear. He was furious that his housemates consisted of Harry Potter and the werewolf professor he once had. It was like all of his most ill favored things under one roof.

He didn't know which infuriated him more, the fact that the blasted hippogriff that had sliced his arm open was still alive and living in the same house as him, or that the werewolf had tried to be nice to him. This stopped however, after Draco's 4th day of being there. Lupin asked him if he would like tea with him and Harry, and Draco declined, saying he didn't want his throat ripped out by a monster, thanks.

This seemed to stop that nonsense kindness. Draco didn't need people here to be nice to him. He didn't need to be liked. The Malfoy family prided themselves on not basing their happiness on what others thought of them. They were higher than that. All that mattered was what they thought. Draco had always lived by this belief.

Not to his surprise, this way of life did not find him many admirers in the house.

Draco had been reading one of his new books that were sent to the house for his 6th year of school when the grubby house-elf appeared by his bedside. Draco cringed at the sight of the elf. Even though he had seen him many times since arriving at the house, and even though the elf had taken a shine to him because he was a pureblood, he was the most appalling and dirty house-elf he'd ever seen.

And he didn't clean a damn thing.

"What?" Draco asked sourly, snapping his book shut. The house-elf bent low so that his snout-like nose brushed the floor.

"No good master is saying that dinner is ready. Kreacher does not know why young Malfoy is taking orders from an unworthy half-blood, the Malfoy family is very respectable, and master is not. Oh if my mistress could see this now, Kreacher taking orders from that ungrateful boy and spending time with a dirty werewolf…"

Draco sniggered at the house-elf's complaints. He rather liked listening to the house-elf talk about Harry and Lupin, even if he could not stand the sight of him. He left the room and Kreacher's muttering, and proceeded downstairs to the large kitchen.

"Well, if it isn't the Prince of Darkness," Harry said loudly as Draco entered. Draco shot him a hateful look and reluctantly took a place at the long table.

"At least I'm not a blundering idiot," Draco muttered under his breath. Mealtimes were really the only time Harry and Draco interacted, as Harry was either with Lupin when he wasn't away, or in his room all day, practicing spells and curses. Draco scoffed at his practicing. He wasn't going to bring down the Dark Lord all by himself. He always knew Potter's bigheadedness would get him killed sooner or later.

Draco hoped it was sooner than later.

He found himself sitting at a table with Lupin, Harry, and Tonks. Draco sat back in his chair with his arms crossed, staring at Tonks who was carefully sipping a firewhiskey.

"Drinking already? It hasn't even reached 6:30. You might want to start later if you plan to stay up all night crying again," Draco said coldly, watching the witch turn a shade of crimson and clumsily knock over her bottle and the bowl in front of her.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry hissed in his ear as he slammed a bowl of soup down in front of him. He smiled at the discord he was causing.

"Why should I?" Draco shot back darkly. "You're all crazy. I'm not the one spending my afternoons with a dangerous monster," he shot a contemptuous look at Lupin, who grimaced as though he had been struck, "or practicing spells in my room with the ludicrous idea that I could single-handedly bring down the most powerful wizard in the world-"

"Dumbledore's the most powerful wizard in the world!" Harry shouted, knocking Draco's bowl of soup over with his hand so that it hit the wall next to them. Draco smirked pleasantly at the sight of Harry breathing hard, shaking with anger.

"Now boys-" Lupin began, but Draco held up a hand to stop him.

"Well that's your opinion. But at least I'm not mourning over the death of a convicted murderer that everyone wanted dead anyway," Draco said, his nose upturned. Lupin sat there in shock, his mouth open. Harry's eyes widened, and for a second Draco thought he was going to start crying. Tonks had already collapsed into silent tears. Harry, still shaking with anger, grabbed Draco by the collar, and pulled him so that they were face to face.

"How dare you speak about Sirius like that," he breathed, straining with every word.

Draco shoved him off and Harry pounced on top of him, and both of them crashed to the floor. Draco felt a sharp rush of pain in the back of his head as it connected with the stone floor. They struggled, Harry flailing his limbs about, trying to connect with Draco's body as the blond desperately tried to fend off his blows and push Harry's weight off him at the same time. Suddenly, Harry was lifted clear of him, and Draco jumped up and withdrew his wand from his robes, pointing it deftly at Harry's face, and ignoring the pain in the back of his head.

Draco blinked in shock as he was looking at Harry struggling against the hold of Lupin and Severus Snape.

Draco narrowed his eyes at the appearance of the potions master. He couldn't be in the Order… it couldn't be possible.

"Potter, if you don't stop squirming, I'm afraid I will have to put a leg-locker curse on you," Snape said quite calmly. Harry stopped, and Lupin and Snape released him. Harry's eyes were burning, and his face was a deep shade of pink. He was shaking with the effort of not jumping on Draco again.

"Well Remus, I think I'm going to take Draco for a little chat about his actions here with Potter," Snape said, turning to Lupin. Lupin raised his eyebrows skeptically, but nodded. "Come along Draco," Snape said, leading the way up the stairs. Draco brushed past Harry slightly, and felt the animosity radiating off the other boy.

They reached the first landing, and Snape beckoned him close. He took out his wand and murmured "_Muffliato_," and putting his wand away said, "Now no one can hear us. Not even that infernal portrait." Draco marveled at this spell, realizing that he had never heard of it before. But Draco's anger returned quickly.

"What are you doing here? You're in the Order? But you were supposed to be helping Voldemort," Draco growled. He felt betrayed. He had thought Snape was on his parents' side, on his side, but it turned out he had been against them all along. Snape sighed, and ran a hand through his lank hair.

"I am still faithful to him, don't you dare accuse me of anything else," Snape stated in a hard voice.

"Well then prove it," Draco said, with an air of superiority, almost. Snape outwardly scowled at the idea of being told by a 16 year old to prove where his loyalties lay.

"This is proof, I've come from Lord Voldemort himself, and he says that he wants to give you a mission. He wants your help, Draco," Snape said evenly, searching Draco's eyes for his reaction.

Draco just stood there, stunned. Voldemort wanted his help? He didn't know what to feel. All these emotions suddenly jumped into Draco's throat, not allowing him to speak. Being a Malfoy, he had always been calm and collected. He had never felt this wrong-footed before in his life.

"It is a great honor, Draco, especially for someone of your age," Snape said slowly, placing a hand on his shoulder. Draco nodded and felt the thin fingers grip his shoulder more tightly. He looked up into the black pools of Snape's eyes and was surprised to find something like pity reflected in them. "It is an honor… but Voldemort is not happy about your parents failure to deliver Harry Potter to him…"

Draco clenched his fists in hostility. "He murdered them," he uttered.

"And I am sorry Draco, I truly am. Your parents were good friends," he paused and looked away into the darkness of the room, "But Voldemort has decided in light of your parents' defeat, that you should be allowed to redeem the Malfoy name. He has decided to give you the same task that he bestowed upon them," Snape concluded softly. Draco looked at him questioningly. "I informed him of you staying with Potter over summer, and he requests…" Snape trailed off, once again staring into the darkness. He did not seem to want to finish.

"He requests what?" Draco asked in a hushed tone, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

"Well… he wants you to be _friendly_ with Potter. He wants you to gain his trust. Seduce him, in a manner of speaking. And somehow, he wants you to deliver Potter to him," Snape said, and looking at Draco very seriously he added, "You cannot refuse Draco. He will send Death Eaters after you if you don't accept…"

Draco felt a panic rise in his body. He and Harry were worst enemies. He couldn't stand being in the same house as him. How could he possibly become friends with him?  
"Sorry sir, but how is this even possible?" Draco asked, his voice shaking. Snape turned away from him.

"You and Potter are more alike than you think, Draco. You're both orphans now, because of the same person. You're both stuck-up, and always strutting around. You're both clever and determined. And you both have a rather annoying taste for trouble," Snape said, clasping his hands behind his back.

Draco felt his face burn at hearing the ridiculous similarities between him and the person he hated the most. Draco felt his stomach drop as he realized that his life depended on whether or not he could become Harry's friend.

Snape's gaze pierced into Draco's and he said, "I know this seems impossible. But I know you can do it. You are one of the most clever students I've ever had. And I wouldn't feel right unless I helped you at any chance I could," he said severely. Draco felt a rush of gratitude towards his Professor, but soon realized it was ill placed.

"No," he said shaking his head. Snape's features took on a look of shock, and then something Draco faintly recognized as anger. "This is my task. I have to do it. I can't have help," Draco said, hardly believing his own ears.

"Don't be a fool. This isn't a moment to be proud," Snape said staidly.

"Don't mistake it for pride. This is about avenging my parents' death, and restoring my family honor. If it wasn't for Potter," he spat, "My parents would still be alive. I can't have help. This is something I have to do on my own," Draco said resolutely. Snape's face was contorted with fury, but he simply nodded.

"You will have to report to me and I'll tell Lord Voldemort," he said in a business-like manner. Draco nodded swiftly and turned on his heel, ready to go back to his room. "Draco," Snape voiced after him, and Draco halted. "You can still always come to me if you ever need help."

Draco did not turn around. "I won't need it," he said coldly, and proceeded up the stairs. He got to his room and collapsed on the bed.

He knew he should've felt proud, and honored to be given such an important mission. But he mostly felt fear. If he didn't pull this off, then he would be killed, just like his parents, and the Malfoy name would be disgraced forever. How could he pretend to enjoy the company of the person who had inadvertently caused their deaths?

He couldn't stop remembering what Dumbledore had said when he took him to this place. _"The best way to compensate for their failure is to turn their only child into a Death Eater. And give him an impossible task, where Draco will surely be killed." _No matter how hard he tried, he could not stop Dumbledore's words from echoing in his head.

Draco started to shake uncontrollably, and curled into a ball on top of the covers. It was a not a cold night, and Draco knew he was shivering from fear and pain. He had never felt like this before. His heart was never gripped in this cold sense of fear. His stomach was all tied up, and his breath came out haggard. Draco tried to think of why he was behaving so oddly, but his thoughts were hazy, and clouded.

He slowly realized that he longed for his parents. The whole time after he learned of their deaths, he had convinced himself that he hated them, that his misery was their entire fault. But he knew that he had only done this to escape the real pain of mourning them. He didn't want to experience this empty hole in his chest, and the way he couldn't seem to move his limbs. He was supposed to be strong, and brave.

But he simply couldn't fool his own emotions anymore. He felt the heavy veil of despondency and heartbreak settle over him.

And for the first time since his parents' death, Draco allowed a silent tear to fall from his face to his bed.

He laid there for the rest of the night, overwhelmed with grief, as he mourned his parent's death in the house of his enemy.


End file.
